


from your memory

by leere



Series: Tumblr SP Prompts [6]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst and Feels, Drabble, Friendship Angst, Gen, Growing Apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/pseuds/leere
Summary: The day Stan realizes he's not Kyle's super best friend anymore, he hides under his covers for six hours.
Series: Tumblr SP Prompts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399675
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	from your memory

**Author's Note:**

> This was written last summer for a Tumblr prompt ask, but I forgot to post it, so here it is.

The day Stan realizes he's not Kyle's super best friend anymore, he hides under his covers for six hours. He keeps replaying the last three years, when he'd been blind to the fact that Kyle was annoyed by him - _bored_ by him. All the terse looks, the sharp words; he didn't care for him, didn't want him around, yet didn't care enough to tell him to fuck off, either. Couldn't even give him the courtesy of telling him not to waste his time.

Then he gets mad, because _fuck_ Kyle; if he was as mature and smart as he pretended to be, he would've been honest, and confronted Stan early on. Instead he'd been petty, choosing to pull passive aggressive bullshit, dismissing Stan, acting as if he wasn't worth his time, like he wasn't good enough for him.

He crawls out of his self-pity blanket fort and goes to his desk to write up a letter, a big fuck you to the best friend he thought he had. He gets out lined paper, wide-ruled because his handwriting gets scribbly and small if he lets it, and addresses it to Kyle, before filling it up with all the shitty things Kyle's done to him, all the things he's made him feel, all the times he's hurt him.

Then he realizes he hadn't been a saint himself, and fills up a third page with apologies, airing out all the regrets he'd held inside and beat himself up over for so long.

When he's done, his chest is heavy and his throat is tight, and he wants to stomp over to Kyle's house and hand him this letter, wants to watch his face as he reads it; selfishly wants to see guilt consume him, so the roles can be switched and Kyle can grovel at _his_ feet for once.

Instead he makes his way downstairs, ignoring his dad on the couch and his mom speaking to him as he heads outside, into the backyard. He goes over to their barbecue and lights it, then takes a deep breath and sets the papers on the grill. Watching them burn and turn to ash feels good, and when it's over, he pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans. His fingers hover over Kyle's contact. Finally, he hits 'call'.

It rings twice.

"Kyle?" he takes a deep breath, willing his voice not to crack. "Can we meet somewhere? We need to talk."


End file.
